CHAPTER XIV
SURROUNDED
Bubbling over with mirth, at the manner in which they had gotten the best of Del Pinzo and his gang, the outfit from Diamond X rode on the trail again, once more intent on trailing the Yaquis that had captured Floyd and Rosemary. And if Bud, Nort and Dick could, at that moment, or thereabouts, have seen Rosemary boldly defying the evil-faced Mike with her automatic, their admiration for the girl would have been manifested by yells of approval.
But Bud and his chums, with their cowboy friends, were all unaware of what was happening farther on in the desolate mountain whither the Indians had led their captives. If they had been they probably would not have ridden on in such comparative leisure. For they did not rush at headlong pace, knowing they had a long, long trail ahead of them, and must conserve not only their strength, but, what was more important, that of their horses.
Without horses it would have been impossible to have gone on for more than a short distance in that wild country. As I have explained motor cars, even the marvelous little Ford, would have been out of the question, so rough was the trail, so winding amid rocks, now down in some narrow defile, hardly wide enough for a single rider, and again ascending some slope tangled with brush and dead trees.
Knowing themselves to be thus dependent on their horses our heroes saved their steeds all they could. It was for this reason that, much as they hated Del Pinzo and his gang, they would not deprive these outlaws of what was a means of life—their horses.
"But they won't ride after us, and I don't believe they'll give us any more trouble," chuckled Bud, as he visioned the outlaws, used to their comfortable if clumsy saddles, riding bareback. To a horseman this is the limit of torture, for the horses of the west are no circus animals, with broad, flat backs. Instead, they generally have a ridge of bone on which it is almost impossible to ride, even when a blanket or two is strapped on in place of a saddle. Only an Indian can manage to ride along with but a blanket for a seat.
"Yes, we put one over on them all right," agreed Dick.
"The only thing about it is that they held us up," remarked Nort.
"We're several hours behind our schedule now."
"It can't be helped," spoke Bud, looking at a deep scratch on his hand—a scratch caused by a glancing bullet. "We can't really do anything toward rescuing Rosemary and Floyd until we strike the trail of the Yaquis, and it's mostly guess work until then."
"But when we do locate them!" exclaimed Nort, as he gripped the handle of his gun, "we'll let 'em see what a mistake they made!"
"You got rid of a mouthful that time, son," observed Yellin' Kid. And then, lifting his voice he roared out:
"As I was ridin' on the trail,
My true love for to see.
I met a four-legged grizzly bear,
An' th' grizzly he met me!
"'Oh kind Mr. Bear,' I gently called,
'Move on!' but he shook his head.
So then I ups with my .45
An' fills him full of lead!"
Having gotten this out of his "system," Yellin' Kid seemed to feel better. He smiled genially at the boy ranchers, and flapping his hat down on the side of his pony sent the animal ahead in a cloud of dust to join some of his companions in the lead.
Thus, making merry as possible under the circumstances, the outfit from Diamond X resumed the trail, the more experienced cowboys looking here and there for any "sign" that would indicate the presence or the passage of the Yaquis.
As a matter of fact Snake Purdee did not expect to "meet up" with any of the Indians for some time. He and Rolling Stone had talked the matter over, and Rolling Stone had given the benefit of his experience in trailing Yaquis.
"With them," said the new acquisition to Diamond X, "it's a sort of a flash in the pan. They get excited for some reason or other, have a war dance, a pow wow or some ceremony, and before they know it some crazy leader has taken the trail with some of his friends, and they're bent on shooting up some Mexican or American town, getting strong drink when they can, and stealing everything they can lay their dirty paws on.
"That's when they're in the first rush of excitement, and I take it that it was on a time like this the Yaquis took Miss Rosemary and Floyd. Why they did this, instead of shooting 'em, as they generally do, I can't make out. The Yaquis don't ordinarily use those methods."
"Unless they took my cousins to hold for ransom," suggested Bud.
"Well, of course that's possible, but I didn't know the Yaquis were that smart," answered Rolling Stone. "Still, some new leader may have gotten together a band, or it may be some half breed, or even some renegade American is at the bottom of this. I can understand a chap like that holding prisoners for ransom.
"But what I started to say was that once the first wild outburst is over, the Yaquis will keep mighty quiet. They won't go about with a brass band, advertising their hiding places."
"You mean it won't be easy to find them?" asked Nort.
"That's it, son. They're going to be mighty cute and foxy, and while a Yaqui isn't in it with our old time American Indians in the matter of covering a trail, still we aren't going to have any walkover. We've got our work cut out for us."
"I believe you!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "But we'll get the devils sooner or later."
"The sooner the better," said Rolling Stone quietly, and there was in his very quietness a menace which the boys understood very well. Every hour that Rosemary and Floyd remained in the hands of the Yaquis meant an ever increasing danger. And once the mad frenzy of the Indians wore off and they began to realize what they had done, anticipating the consequences once they were captured with the prisoners in their possession, there was hardly a question of what they would do to Rosemary and Floyd. The captives would be killed to get them out of the way.
It was this that urged the rescue party ahead with all the speed possible, and consistent with preserving their horses' power to travel.
In spite of wounds, and some were seriously hurt (one dying later) there was no sign of gloom in the midst of the party of which the boy ranchers formed an important element. Some of the cowboys sang, and Yellin' Kid intoned another verse or two of the many songs with which he seemed plentifully provided.
Coming to a deep ravine, along which the trail led into the mountains, where it was reported the Yaquis had headed, Snake Purdee called a halt.
"What's the matter now?" asked Rolling Stone.
"Do you see anything?" asked Bud, for he noticed the veteran cowboy looking down into the black depths.
"No," answered Snake slowly, "but it strikes me this is a good place to get rid of the saddles and truck we took offen Del Pinzo. No use carting the duffle along. It's no good to us and it only tires our pack mules. Heave it down this gully, boys and we'll ride lighter."
This was soon done, and the baggage animals, at least, went forward with easier burdens. The trail became more rough as it led upward, but Snake explained that they would cross one range of the mountain, and come to a level plain which must be traversed before the second range would be reached.
"And we'll either come across the Yaquis in the plain, or as we go up the second mountain," said the cowboy. "That will be about their limit I fancy."
They camped that night on the downward slope of the first mountain, having crossed the ridge through a narrow pass, not easy to negotiate. There was a more tense feeling when this night camp was made than at any time before.
"For it seems now, somehow," explained Bud, "that we're within striking distance of the Yaquis. We're trailing 'em close!"
"The closer the better—so, we can get a few shots at 'em!" declared
Nort.
"Will they really make a stand and fight?" asked Dick.
"I don't know," Bud replied. "I never—"
"They'll fight all right!" interrupted Rolling Stone. "They'll fight now just through fear of being captured. The first hot impulses that caused them to run wild are cooling off. They'll be worse to tackle now than when they first took the war path, for they will be cool and calculating, while before they were hot headed, and anyone who used half his brains could best 'em. Yes, we aren't going to have a picnic."
"Well, we didn't come for that," said Dick grimly.
He and his companion boy ranchers were willing to endure all the hardships and dangers with the more seasoned cowboys, and Bud and Nort who, until within a comparatively recent time were unused to western ways, were now accounted as capable of Bud, than which there was no higher praise.
There was evident in the manner in which campfires were built, and a system of sentinel guards posted, that the older men realized the nearness of danger. The cowboys had dropped their half bantering manner, and sat grim-lipped and thoughtful of eye about the blaze. This change in their manners affected our youthful heroes who looked at one another somewhat apprehensively, and more than once let their hands stray to their weapons.
But the night passed without untoward incident, if we except a false alarm given by Bud when he was standing guard. He had been pacing backward and forward for some hours, and it was almost time for his relief, when he saw, peering over the top of a rock, what he took to be the feathered headdress of an Indian. Forgetting, for the moment that the Yaquis did not adopt the picturesque adornments of the American redmen, Bud fired, at the same time letting out a yell.
Of course, this roused the whole camp, and you can appreciate Bud's chagrin when his "Indian" proved to be nothing more than a waving branch of a bush topping a rock. The waving leaves had looked like feathers in the starlight, by which alone Bud had seen them.
"Well, I wasn't taking any chances," he said, when the cause of his alarm was ascertained.
"That's right," Yellin' Kid assured him.
Morning saw the party in saddle again, and as better time could be made on the down trail, they reached the intervening plain of the valley, between the two mountain ranges well before noon.
A halt was made for "grub," and it was after this meal, when they were about to proceed again, that an astounding discovery was made. Dick gave the alarm. He had gone off a little way to get his pony, which had strayed, when he saw, on the far horizon, a band of horsemen. They were too distant to be made out clearly, but against the intensely blue sky Dick saw waving lances, and he at once shouted:
"Indians!"
This was enough to focus all eyes, first on him and then on the approaching band. The waving lances could plainly be seen now.
"And look there!" cried Nort, as he pointed to the North, a direction exactly opposite to that whence the horsemen discovered by Dick were approaching.
"More Indians!" shouted Yellin' Kid.
Snake Purdee leaped to a high rock and with rapid gaze swept the horizon.
"They're coming from all directions," he said grimly, as he leaped down and began a rapid survey of their position, with a view to its defence. "We're being surrounded!"
And this was so. From all points there rode in on the outfit from Diamond X an ever narrowing circle of horsemen, many of whom carried lances which pointed toward the zenith.
"They aren't Yaquis," exclaimed Rolling Stone. "Those Mexican Indians don't carry lances. They must have met up with a band from some American reservation and have gotten them to go on the warpath. This looks bad!"